Balls 2: Aftershocks
by xwincesterx
Summary: Yes I totally ganked that sequel name from Tremors. Yes this is a sequel to Balls. Please read that one first. WINCEST.
1. Chapter 1

**Balls 2: Aftershocks**

**Sequel to Balls. Uh...yeah it's basically porn without plot. **

It's been six weeks.

Literally three hours after Sam and Dean's first close encounter of the testicles kind-after they'd finally gotten to sleep-they'd gotten an emergency call from Bobby, packed their crap and hit the road.

Dead hunters, what seemed like a _pack_ of mystery monsters, and missing townsfolk had Sam and Dean shacked up with Bobby and a couple other hunters while they tried to figure it all out. All squatting in a rundown shack of a house. Together. All of them.

At no point in time did Sam and Dean have a moment together. Not a single stakeout. Not a single meal. Not a single night of sleep. There was always someone right there with them.

It was weird at first. The development in their relationship was so new, and it felt completely unfair that they were being forced to box it away already. Sam had bemusedly thought of something Shakespeare had written; _an impatient child that hath new robes and may not wear them. _Of course, he smiled to himself the moment after he'd thought of the line. Dean would call him a girl if he knew.

It wasn't that big of a deal to act the same way they'd always acted around each other. It wasn't like they'd be playing grab-ass while hunting or whatever. Or flirting. Or holding hands. That's not something either of them would do anyway. Right?

Once the group figured out that the 'mystery monsters' were actually ancient, powerful spirits—bodies having been buried deep in the woods after they'd been brutally murdered over a hundred years prior—it only took a matter of days to locate the graves, salt and burn the bodies, and pack up to leave. But having been cooped up with three other hunters for a month and a half had pretty much thrown Sam and Dean back into unknown territory with one another.

Not only had they not been able to physically do anything for all that time, but without a moment to themselves, they hadn't talked about it either. They'd fallen back into the rhythm of brothers, hunters, separate beds, before they'd even had a chance to have any other type of rhythm to change out of.

So it wasn't surprising when Dean was waiting in the car for Sam to finish saying his goodbyes Bobby, that he felt suddenly awkward and anxious. He and Sam had been drinking a bit that amazing night. It's not like they'd had a chance to discuss _anything _since. Maybe Sam had been quiet about it for more reason than keeping their secret from Bobby and them. Maybe he'd been avoiding it because he was ashamed of it.

He wasn't about to lie to himself about it. Dean didn't regret that night; not even a little bit. In fact, he'd been dreaming about it since then, as frustrating as it was to wake up with wood you just could _not _hide without waddling in some strange fashion to the bathroom. At least he could be grateful that he hadn't talked in his sleep. He was pretty damned sure that moaning his brother's name would've probably drawn some unwanted attention to himself. Not to mention, he was pretty sure Sam would've said something to him at some point, seeing as the whole lot of them were sleeping in one big room, sleeping bags on the floor all spread out on separate walls. Surely if he'd heard his name called out in the night, Sam would've noticed and called him out on it.

Then again, it wasn't like they'd had any time alone to address that either.

Fuckin' christ. Now he was even more nervous.

He was so consumed by his thoughts, Sam suddenly opening the passenger door made him jump. Luckily Sam hadn't noticed. Dean tried not to stare too hard as his brother folded himself into the passenger seat. He forced his eyes out the windshield and pulled on his belt before starting the engine.

"Where we headed?" Sam asked as he pulled on his own belt.

"East," Dean replied. "Figure it's as good a direction as any. If nothin' else, we can hit up the casinos," he told him, throwing Sam a smirk before he turned to look behind them, backing out of the parking space.

Sam let out a breathy laugh, smiling at Dean for a moment before he turned to face the windshield again.

"What?" Dean questioned the laugh as he pulled out of the lot.

"Nothing," Sam shook his head.

"No arguments against Vegas?" Dean raised a brow.

"Actually no," Sam replied. "We just spent the last month and a half in Bobby's back pockets, not to mention Josh and Daryl. I think we probably deserve a little down time someplace fun."

Dean looked over at him with narrowed, suspicious eyes. "Christo."

Sam laughed. "Dude, that's not funny. Or possible."

"Just makin' sure," Dean replied. "It's so not like you to wanna go to Sin City."

"I don't care where we go, as long as it's got a private room. Just you and me," Sam said, voice lowering a bit as he slid over toward Dean. Dean swallowed as he felt Sam's hand on his thigh. "Know how many cold showers I've had to take since that night? I lost count...but I'll tell you it's a lot. Kinda hoping we can spend the week making up for the past six," he was almost whispering now, right beside Dean's ear.

Dean's eyes grew heavy at the feel of Sam's breath against his skin. Then suddenly Sam's hand was gripping over Dean's crotch, squeezing over his half-filled cock through the front of his jeans, and he swerved, quickly trying to straighten the car out again, and grateful there seemed to be no one else on the road.

"Sam..."

"Don't kill us, Dean," Sam said with a grin. "Just...let me play until we get there, alright? Vegas is six hours from here, and I don't wanna wait that long." The blood had officially drained from Dean's brain and went straight to his dick as Sam opened his brother's jeans. "Think you can handle that?" Sam asked. "Not killing us while I have some fun?"

"Uhh..." Dean was already out of breath, trying like mad to concentrate on the asphalt ahead of them as Sam's tongue and teeth swept over his neck below his ear, his hand stroking his cock, not yet pulling it free of his boxers.

"I'll take that as a yes," Sam said with a smile, then scooted back over to his side of the car. It confused Dean for a moment, until Sam bowed over Dean's lap and pulled Dean's cock free.

"Oh shit!" Dean gasped as Sam's hot wet mouth sucked the head of him inside. "Jesus!" he yelped as he tried really hard to keep the car on the right side of the yellow line. He wasn't doing a very good job. Which was verified when a siren suddenly sounded behind them. "Oh fuck!" Dean gripped Sam's hair and pulled him off of him. "Dude! Getting pulled over! Goddamnit!"

"Should we Tommy Boy this?" Sam asked, suddenly serious.

"You wanna put my dick back in my pants first so I can pull the fuck over?" Dean replied incredulously. Sam complied, zipping the jeans carefully over Dean's quickly softening cock as Dean whipped the car onto the shoulder. "Aaaand go!" he shouted before they both threw open the doors and rolled out of the car in a state of feigned panic.

Sam stood and swiped frantically at his hair, twitching as he acted as though he were dodging an invisible force. Dean was up and rounding the car to fake-help him.

"What in the ever-lovin' hell is wrong with you boys?" the officer said as he stayed cautiously by his own vehicle, fingers lowering his sunglasses in order to survey the situation.

"Bees!" Dean yelled back. "Freakin' bees in the damn car! My brother's allergic!" he added as he continued to check over Sam, glancing back into the car now and then.

The cop narrowed his eyes. "How many bees we talkin'?" he asked.

"Not sure," Dean replied. "But I think they musta flown out. Don't see 'em anymore."

The cop stayed by his own car for a moment, and Dean knew it had worked. "That why you were swervin' back there?"

"I... Oh hell, I'm sorry, officer," Dean told him. "Sam here started flippin' out and it kinda spooked me. Shoulda just pulled over. Glad there's no one else on the road right now. Guess I owe you a thanks for pullin' us over."

The cop was quiet for a moment, observing them as they seemed to be carefully looking in each window of the Impala, trying to track any trace of bees. "You need me to call in some kinda help?" he asked slowly.

"Eh...probably not," Dean replied. "I think we're good."

"Just uh...stay off the road till you know your car is bee-free, got it?" the cop told him.

"Yes, sir!" Dean replied with a smile, then turned back to continue their fake-searching.

.~*~.

"I can't believe that actually worked," Dean said after they were back in the car, the cop driving past them before Dean started the engine again.

"Well you really sold it," Sam replied with a grin.

"That was all your fault!" Dean scolded. "You can't just start suckin' a guy's dick when he's drivin'!"

"Maybe it wasn't the best idea..."

"Damn right it wasn't. Hell, we haven't done anything since that one time, so I wasn't expecting it."

"That was kinda the point," Sam said, the corner of his mouth curling up a bit. "You were thinking too hard and I had to ease your mind."

"By molesting me at fifty-five miles per hour?"

"Well I guess I could've let you brood for six hours."

"I wasn't brooding. _You _brood."

"Yeah okay," Sam said with a laugh. "So uh...you wanna just grab a room for the night and get it out of our system before we head to Vegas?"

Dean sped out onto the road...

.~*~.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: As with everything I do, this is unedited... Sorry it took so long. I won't lie, it'll probably take as long for the next chapter. *Shrug* It's hard to be sexy and stupid-funny at the same time. I'M TRYING lol**

.~*~.

Terry had been running the register at Stop-n-Go Drugstore since he was in high school. He'd seen his fair share of odd customers, and he could spot a shoplifter out of a crowd if he had to. So when two rather tall, drifter-looking guys strolled into the store, each taking a different direction and heading up different aisles, he couldn't help but to be suspicious.

He watched them in the circular security mirrors, trying not to be too obvious about it. The taller one seemed to know exactly what he was looking for, grabbed a couple of boxes from the shelf, and then headed up another aisle. He didn't pocket anything though, so Terry moved his attention to the other one. He was in the aisle looking at condoms and lube, concentrating pretty hard. Terry kept his eye on him right up until the point where the taller guy stepped up to the counter and tossed his items on it.

Terry had no choice but to start ringing him up, every now and then glancing back up at that mirror.

"Uh..." the man cleared his throat. "If you're worried about the guy over there stealing something, don't be," he told him with a small grin. "Bad karma to steal stuff like condoms, ya know. Could backfire."

"Right," Terry replied, drawing the word out for a moment as he began bagging the items. "That'll be fifteen eighty-seven," he told him, then glanced back up in the mirror, watching as the other man began walking up the aisle with two boxes in his hands.

"Here," the taller man handed him a twenty. "Keep the change." The taller man seemed in a hurry to grab his bag and start heading toward the door before the other man could get to the counter.

"Hi there," the man said with a smile as he dropped a twenty-pack of condoms and a boxed bottle of lube...

.~*~.

"He thought we were shoplifters," Sam smirked when Dean got into the car.

"We usually are," Dean replied with a shrug. "Hotel's around the corner. What'd you get, by the way?"

"You'll see when we're in the room."

Dean smiled, a breathy laugh escaping as he started the engine. "I like the sound of _that_."

.~*~.

"An enema?!" Dean questioned incredulously as he looked down at the box Sam had placed in his hand.

"Uh...two, actually," Sam held up the other one.

"What the fuck for?"

"So you can...you know, get clean," Sam ended the statement as though he was asking a question. "I wanted to, you know, return the favor..."

"So I gotta use special shit to clean my asshole?"

"You eat a lot of greasy, disgusting food," Sam rationalized. "I figured it might be better if-"

"Okay, ya know what? No... Not having this discussion right now," he interrupted, throwing the box down on the table. "Doesn't even matter, because that ain't even on the menu right now."

"What?" Sam asked, confused as he stood to go after Dean who'd walked to the middle of the room.

"Ain't _my_ ass you need to be worried about, little brother," he replied, suddenly turning to push Sam up against the wall. "You gotta pay for that little incident you caused in the car," he said, pushing a leg between Sam's as their hips met.

"Am I..." Sam stopped and cleared his throat. "Am I getting punished?" he asked in a low voice.

"Depends on your definition of punished," he replied before crushing his mouth to Sam's.

Sam returned the kiss, opening up for whatever Dean wanted to take. Suddenly he felt himself being pulled away from the wall, dizzy as he was spun around and thrown onto the bed. He bounced once, the air pushed out of him from the impact before Dean grabbed onto Sam's jeans and yanked hard, pulling his boxers right along with them.

"Holy shit," Dean's eyes widened as he looked at the display before him.

Sam's face flushed pink as he propped himself up on his elbows. "It got itchy...so I kept shaving every time I got a chance to shower," he explained.

Dean just stood there at the foot of the bed, gaping for a long moment before his brain caught up to what Sam had said. "Itchy. Yeah...yeah I uh..." he scratched the back of his head. "I didn't have any time to go...ya know...get it done."

"Oh?" Sam smirked, a brow raised.

"Yeah uh...maybe I should um...clean up before this. I'll just uh..."

"No no no," Sam pushed up and grabbed Dean, stopping his escape to the bathroom and began pulling open his jeans.

"Dude, c'mon. It hasn't been this hairy in...like...ever!" Dean argued, but let Sam tug tug his jeans and boxers down anyway. He wiped a hand down his face nervously.

"It's not even that bad," Sam said as he ran a thumb over Dean's skin. "It's like...peach fuzz, dude. Have your pubes always been baby-soft?" he asked with a laugh.

"Shut up," Dean slapped his hand away. "It's because the waxing...it grows back softer."

"At least I don't have to worry about friction burn," Sam shrugged.

"You're a douchebag, you know that?" Dean said as he pushed Sam back down on the bed and stepped out of his jeans. Sam simply laughed, shrugging out of his shirt before watching Dean strip down. "Just for that, I'll let it all grow in like a freakin' lumberjack's beard. See how well you like it then."

"More like a bearded _lady_," Sam laughed.

"Oh you are so dead," Dean growled, then leaped onto the bed to tackle his brother. Sam let out a feigned scream, only pretending to fight back as Dean flipped him over.

But then he felt himself manhandled over Dean's lap, his hardening cock over Dean's bare legs. "Dude, what the hell?" Sam began to struggle, then.

"I told you you needed to be punished, bitch," Dean replied, followed by a loud crack of his hand smacking down on Sam's left butt cheek.

"Ow! Asshole, that hurt!"

Dean grinned. "Nice red hand print there, too. Gotta make the other one match, now," he said as he raised his hand again.

"No!" _smack _"Damnit, Dean!" Sam successfully twisted around to get out of Dean's hold, though it wasn't that much of a feat since Dean was in the middle of a full belly laugh at this point. Sam pinned him to the mattress. "You're such a jerk!" he yelled in his face, some of the anger leaving him at the sight of Dean looking so happy and carefree.

"Your ass..." Dean laughed, then took a breath, "Looks like it's got pink moose antlers!" His laughter reignited as Sam's face flushed again. But then Sam had a hold of his nipple and twisted hard and mercilessly. "Aggghhh!" Dean's laughter was gone, a yelping scream taking over even though the smile was still there on his face. "Damnit, Sammy, uncle! Uncle!"

Sam released Dean's nipple, then quickly lowered his head to give it a gentle kiss before flicking his tongue over the abused nub. Dean let out a half-groan under him, and Sam smiled. "Better?"

"How the hell did you get the upper hand in this?" Dean asked, slightly out of breath.

"To be fair, I should do the other one. Ya know, _just to make them match,_" he mocked.

"No no noooaaagghh!" Dean was helpless to stop Sam from torturing his other nipple, but it was over quickly, and Sam's tongue was soon giving it the same treatment as the other. "You are a bad bad boy, Sam," Dean said right before flipping Sam onto his back and effectively pinning him down. Sam looked partly shocked and amused at the somewhat expected turn of events. "'m I gonna have to cuff you to the bed?"

"Cuffs are in the car," Sam shot back. "You gonna go out there naked and get them?"

"I'm sure I can find something in this room to tie you up with," Dean retorted.

"No... I... I'll behave," Sam told him, the amusement leaving his face.

"Good," Dean replied as he laid down over him. "'cause I've got six weeks worth of jizz built up and I'm tired of waiting."

"Classy, Dean," Sam scoffed, shaking his head, but then quickly shut up when he felt Dean slide his hard cock against Sam's.

"You complaining?"

"Nu uh...No, sir."

Dean pressed his mouth to Sam's which opened readily for him. Their kiss was deep and slow, only building momentum when his thrusts did, the glide of their cocks slippery from each others precome now. "Mmm fuck, Sammy," Dean pressed his forehead against Sam's as he pulled his mouth away for air. "God...just...need to just come," he told him. "We should...fuck we should just come, right? We can go again, but I just need..."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, head nodding and shaking Dean's with it as he pressed his hips up into his brother's. "C'mon, De..."

"Fuck, baby," Dean ducked his head into Sam's neck and just let himself go, all rhythm lost as he humped his cock against Sam's, losing himself in the noises coming from his brother's mouth as he neared orgasm. "Yeah, Sam, c'mon," he encouraged. "Wanna hear you when you come for me, baby brother."

"Oooh...fuck, Dean!" Sam's back arched up off the mattress for a moment before his hips thrust forward, come splashing between them and squelching down his sides as Dean pressed him back down into the bed.

Dean growled, teeth finding Sam's shoulder as he followed after him. It was so fast and hard, his vision shorted out for a moment. Coming was a relief, like having had to piss for hours on a road trip their dad refusing to pull over until finally having to stop for gas. Except obviously this had been considerably more painful to wait for. Maybe a little more fun to finally have finally gotten.

Sam was on cloud nine. Whatever that meant... His ears felt plugged, like they'd been driving through the mountains, and he could hear his breath and heartbeat in them. Waking up with a boner on 43 consecutive days and not being able to rub one out, made this probably the closest he'd ever resort to calling a release 'explosive'. He was almost drifting off when Dean started to move over him. He felt him sliding down his body. Sam opened his eyes in time to see Dean about to lick the come from his belly.

"Dude, don't do that!" Sam protested, palm smacking Dean's forehead and holding him far enough away so that his tongue couldn't reach. "That's disgusting!"

"Disgusting?" Dean asked with a raised brow. "Haven't you ever watched porn? All guys like watching come-eating."

"Well I'm not all guys," Sam squirmed out from under him. "And if you intentionally eat that, I am not kissing you again."

Dean pushed up onto his knees, eyes narrowing at his brother. "You had my dick in your mouth on the road," Dean reminded him.

"That's different."

"No it's not. What were you gonna do? Suck me off and let it get all over the upholstery? You realized I'd have made you eat it off the damn seats..."

"Damnit, it's not the same thing," Sam argued. "Will you go get me a towel or something?" he asked, making a grossed out face at the feel of the cooling come dripping down his skin.

"You and your OCD, man," Dean sighed as he pushed up off of the bed and headed into the bathroom.

"It's not my fault..."

"Yeah let's blame genetics, 'cause we know how particular Dad was," Dean replied sarcastically.

"It doesn't always have to be passed down, Dean," Sam retorted. "I developed it...through trauma. From being around you and your nasty ass socks in the sink."

"You should've built up an immunity," Dean shot back, tossing a dampened towel at him.

"Why would you even wanna eat this anyway?" Sam questioned as he began wiping himself down.

"I didn't really," Dean shrugged. "Just thought you might find it hot or something."

"Did you forget about the whole ass-licking situation?" Sam asked, brows raised high on his forehead.

"No, but...you were talkin' about lickin' _mine_ so I figured maybe the hotness-factor cured your mindset on the whole thing."

"I bought you two enemas. _Two_," Sam reminded him. "Licking or sucking skin is one thing."

"Or cock," Dean added.

"And swallowing isn't a big deal if it's just...straight down the back of your throat. No taste-bud contact."

"So this is a taste issue."

"No...well...sorta. Maybe."

"You're worried your come tastes bad?" Dean asked with a smirk.

"They say what you eat effects how it tastes. So mine probably tastes like a yogurt parfait. But yours probably tastes like the floor underneath a Carls Junior flat grill."

"Hey!" Dean got an offended look on his face. "No one's ever complained about how I taste before!"

"If you wanna eat something to turn me on, don't do it _after _I come," he told him. "Just go wash up, will you?" He threw the soiled towel at Dean.

"You don't even know what I taste like...bitch," Dean continued to defend as he walked toward the bathroom again.

"Well that's what we're about to find out, jerk!"

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Guys...I have made you wait far too long for this. I'm posting it now...mainly because I have such hilarity planned for the next chapter, it needs to be by itself. **

…

"Dude," Sam heard Dean call out from the bathroom. "I don't know what the fuck I'm doing with this."

Sam did his best to hold in the laugh. "Uh...there are like...instructions in the box. With pictures, even."

"Yeah I know! But I don't think I'm doing it right," he replied, voice slightly muffled from the other side of the door. "It won't...go in."

"Uh...probably you're not going in the right direction?"

"I'm trying to go in the IN direction, Sam, and it's not really going anywhere!"

Sam scrubbed a hand over his face. "Dude, just come out here, then. I'll help you."

"Out there? What if it, like, gets everywhere?"

"It's not... Dean, you just hold it in, man. It's not like an uncontrollable geyser!"

"Fucking fine then," Dean stormed out of the bathroom naked as the day he was born, two enema bottles held in either hand. "This is stupid, and you suck."

"Quit crying, you baby," Sam smirked as he took the bottles from his brother. "Get on the bed. Hands and knees," he gestured toward the mattress with his head.

"I'm not shaving, by the way. I'm gonna go find a waxing place in town tomorrow." Dean grunted, crawling onto the mattress as almost every inch of his skin flushed pink with embarrassment. "This is so stupid..."

"Just relax," Sam scoffed as he stood at the end of the bed. "I'll even lube you up beforehand, okay?"

"It says there's lube on the applicator, but I think they freakin' lied."

"Well you probably rubbed it all off in the process of not doing it right," Sam grinned as Dean let out an annoyed growl. Sam put the bottles down on the mattress and reached for the lube Dean had purchased. Dean was silent while Sam poured some into his hand. "Now uh...I'm gonna touch you, and all you have to do is relax."

"Yeah yeah, I know."

"Oh really?" Sam laughed. "Guess we'll see." He rubbed the pad of his forefinger against Dean's entrance, where Dean immediately clenched up. Sam snickered.

"Shut up! I wasn't ready!"

"Are you ready now?"

"Yes," he replied. Sam rubbed again, and Dean clenched again. "Goddamnit, it's not as easy as you make it out to be!"

Sam tried to contain his amusement and help Dean out. "You can force it to relax by pushing," he told him. "Like...pretend it was taco night and you're about to let one rip."

"How fucking sexy is that," Dean scoffed.

"If you actually rip one, I'm gonna punch you in the throat."

"Thanks for helping me to relax, bitch."

"Will you just do it already?"

"Fine!" Dean did as Sam had instructed, and immediately Sam's finger sank inside. Dean gasped in a breath before he could stop himself.

"You okay?" Sam asked, holding Dean's hip with his free hand.

Dean swallowed. "Yeah. Yeah just...just get on with it already, huh? The things I do for you..."

Sam felt along the wall of Dean's hole as he slowly, carefully slid his finger in. "Still good?" Dean merely nodded, though Sam could tell his breathing had changed slightly. "The applicator isn't as big around as my finger, so it'll be easy," he told him as he grabbed for one of the bottles. "Now I'm gonna pull out, then put this in, and when I start squeezing the bottle it's gonna feel kinda cold, but not uncomfortable. If it feels okay when I've emptied the first one in, I'll put the second in, too. Then all you gotta do is hold it in for a minute and then go empty out on the john."

"Okay yeah I think I can handle pissing out of my own ass, Sam. Can we get this over with? Or are you having fun?"

"Well I'm definitely having fun," Sam said with a grin, then crooked his finger into a spot that made Dean's entire body shiver. "But let's get this over with first." He pulled out his finger and pressed the enema applicator in before Dean could think much about it. "Do _not _keep pushing while I'm doing this, or it really will get everywhere." He heard Dean snicker under his breath as if he planned on doing it anyway. "I'm serious, Dean! I will kick your ass!"

"I wasn't gonna!"

"Yeah right..." Sam began slowly squeezing the bottle, standing a bit out of the way in case Dean tried anything.

"Dude, I'm not gonna do it!" Dean assured him with a laugh. "Wow this is...really weird," he said as he felt the cool water begin to fill him up. "My ass hasn't felt this cool since that one time we were up at Devil's Lake in the dead of winter, hunting that ghost tag-team. Remember?"

"You mean when you fell on the ice and your ass broke through into the freezing water?"

"Yeah."

"The water got _inside_ your ass?"

"No...but the inside of my ass got cold before we got back to the cabin, smartass."

"This is nowhere near that cold," Sam smiled. "It's just not as hot as the inside of your ass."

"Damn right it's hot."

"You're incorrigible," Sam laughed and gave him a tap on one of Dean's plump cheeks. "How do you feel?" he asked more seriously.

"Like I gotta take a piss outta my ass," he replied casually. "Are we going for round two?"

"Not if you feel like it's already too much."

"Nah it's fine. I thought it would feel weirder, honestly." 

"Okay," Sam replied as he slid the first applicator out and grabbed for the second one. "Dude, I can't get this one in if you keep clenching like that."

"Won't it come out if I unclench?"

"No, dude, as long as you don't try to push it out."

"If I ass-piss on the bed, you're cleaning it up."

"Just when I was starting to get turned on..." he said as he pressed the applicator in.

"Giving me an enema is turning you on?" Dean raised a brow.

"Um..." Sam thought about it as he squeezed the bottle. "Not... It's not really the enema itself as much as the fact that I'm...filling you up with something...I guess," he said, unsure about his voiced thoughts.

"Oh." Dean was quiet as Sam pushed the remaining liquid into him. Sam finished, pulled the applicator out and took both bottles to the bathroom to toss into the trash, then washed his hands. When he came back out into the room, Dean was cautiously moving to get off of the bed.

"It's not gonna come gushing out," Sam reminded him, amused.

"It's just weird," Dean told him. "I guess because it doesn't really feel like anything at all. I keep expecting...um...I don't even know what I'm expecting," he said as he stood.

"You can go let it out if you're ready."

"If I'm ready to get to the good stuff, you mean?" he asked, and Sam glanced down to see Dean was already half hard. "Totally ready," he said before heading into the bathroom. Sam smiled as he watched the clenched walk, shaking his head. Sam sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed his palms on his knees. His dick lay heavy and half-hard along his thigh, but he left it alone. It would have to wait, because he had plans for Dean that didn't necessarily involve his own dick at all.

"Dude, this feels so friggin' weird!" Dean shouted from the bathroom. "It's...actually kinda refreshing in a...disturbing kinda way. I'm not sure how I feel about this."

"You mean how you feel about how you feel?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. Wait...what?"

"You kinda like it but you're not sure that you should."

"Yeah that. I think."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Sam said with a smile and a short laugh.

The toilet flushed after a few more moments, followed by the sink turning on and off and on again, then off, and the tossing of a towel to the floor before Dean came back out of the bathroom. "You could eat dinner off my asshole right now," he said with a cheeky grin.

"Okay _that's_ gross," Sam said, unable to hide the smile, "And you should probably get on this bed before I change my mind."

"Want me on my knees again?" Dean asked as he sauntered over.

"On your back," Sam told him. "I wanna return the favor. All of it."

"What?" Dean looked genuinely startled, eyes widening a bit as he slowly sat down on the bed.

"I'm gonna suck your balls first," Sam elaborated. "I figure I learned enough by watching you."

"Dude, maybe you forgot how I haven't waxed in for-freaking-ever."

"Just lie down," Sam scoffed, pushing him over. Dean scooted across the bed on his back, sighing resignedly. "You're seriously way too worried about the fact that you've got hair there right now," Sam shook his head.

"No. I just... I... Shut up, man, I dunno."

Sam snickered as he crawled up the mattress, pushing Dean's legs apart as his slide between them. "You're being insecure," Sam said with a grin as he neared Dean's face, hovering over him.

"I am not!"

"You are, and it's cute."

"I am not _cute_," Dean replied, a look of distaste on his face. "I'm sexy and...and awesome. I am not cute."

"You're even more cute when you try to convince me you're not cute," Sam told him, and before Dean could again object, Sam pressed his mouth to Dean's. Dean wanted to argue, though, and so started to push him away. But Sam grabbed his arms and pushed them up over his head, pinning them down on the mattress. He pulled out of the kiss and stared down at his shocked-silent big brother. "You're right though," Sam told him. "You're pretty damn sexy, too."

Dean kept his hands where Sam had put them, even when Sam was no longer holding them there. He watched and felt as Sam kissed his way down Dean's body, slow and torturous, teeth grazing along his hip bone as his hands spread Dean's legs wider. He couldn't help the blush he knew was spreading over him right then as he closed his eyes. Sure they'd been intimate before, but Sam...well Sam was right there between his legs, getting ready to...oh fuck, he was sucking Dean's balls into his mouth, and suddenly all Dean's concern about not being hairless flew out the window. His breath shuddered out of his chest, and when Sam moaned around them, Dean's hips twitched up off of the mattress for a moment. "God, Sam..."

Sam continued working Dean with the method he remembered Dean using on him. Admittedly there was nothing appealing about having balls in his mouth, but the sounds coming from his brother made the actions totally worth it. In fact, being the one to make Dean make those sounds did something to Sam's insides; something he couldn't put into words in his head right then and there. All he could think to do was stroke himself a few times to relieve the building pressure. He let out a moan, his mouth pulling taught on Dean's balls, and a whine escaped Dean's throat. The sound made something explode deep in Sam's belly.

He had to pull his hand off his own dick and slap in onto Dean's thigh before he came again already. Dean's leg moved with it, spreading wider automatically as if they'd done this a thousand times before instead of never. His new mission was to make Dean make more noises. He let Dean's balls slip from his mouth, a whine escaping his brother's lip before he licked a stripe up the underside of Dean's cock.

"Oh fuck..." Dean keened before Sam sucked the head into his mouth. "Oh shit, Sammy..." Dean couldn't keep his hands away anymore, and he buried his fingers in Sam's hair as Sam sucked him down. _Sam. _This was _Sam_ sucking his cock, and it was like he was fifteen...well no, make that fourteen again, because he was gonna shoot off again already if he didn't stop him. "Fuck, baby boy, gotta stop!" he said as he tugged Sam's hair, pulling him away.

"Goddamnit," Sam growled without any real heat behind it as he crawled back up Dean's body, his face hovering just over Dean's. "I think we should invest in cock rings."

Dean full-out belly-laughed. "That's the first time anyone's ever said that to me," he told him.

"Showing off?" Sam asked with a smirk.

"I would be if you hadn't said 'rings' plural," Dean replied with an amused grin, then pulled Sam down by the nape of his neck to kiss him.

Sam laughed into the kiss, pulling away to breathe after a moment. "It's something about the fact that it's _you_," he confessed, his eyes flitting everywhere but to meet Dean's. "Maybe that makes me sick..."

"Guess we're just two filthy bitches then," Dean replied. Sam met his eyes finally. "Now, I thought I was getting my ass eaten out sometime today."

"You're real eager, aren't you?" Sam smirked.

"It's just...you sure got a purdy mouth, little lady," Dean drawled.

"You jerk," Sam punched him in the shoulder before pushing himself up. "I'll show you a purdy mouth."


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: This chapter wasn't going to happen. But I read a review on Amazon that inspired it. When you're done here, feel free to go find it for yourself. ;)**

**.~*~.**

Dean stood in aisle three of the drug store a block away from the motel, trying to decide what type of at-home wax to get. There was no place in town that did the kind of waxing he needed, but he was fairly confident he could do it himself anyway.

Memories of the night before kept playing over and over in his mind, of how Sam had turned him over and done things with his mouth that had Dean hardening in his jeans just at the thought of it. And the sonofabitch had sneakily stretched himself while he so expertly ate Dean out, that Dean had been thrown off guard when Sam had flipped him onto his back and sank down onto his cock, moaning like he was some kinda professional porn star... Dean had just laid there, fingers digging into Sam's hipbones as he rode him hard and...

Dean had to pull himself back out of the memory and adjust himself, glancing around him to make sure no one could see. He grabbed a box that said Veet for men, only because he'd heard the brand name before and didn't really wanna hang around much longer.

Sam had the car, gone somewhere else to do some shopping for them. He'd done some Googling and found a big, gay sex shop in town. A fucking gay sex shop but nowhere to get your balls waxed. Dean had opted on skipping going there with Sam so he could get waxed in time for when Sam got back. He'd wasted most of his time trying to find a place, then got laughed at by Sam when he called him to tell him there wasn't anything in town. _"Still wanna give me shit about Googling?" _Sam had said. Insufferable bastard.

Once Dean paid for the wax and headed back up the street to the hotel, Sam was calling. "I'm on my way back to the room," Dean told him when he answered.

"_Okay. Well...I got us some stuff," _Sam sounded excited on the other line. _"I guess since you're not done yet, I'll stop somewhere and grab us something for dinner."_

"Don't we have leftovers from lunch in the mini-fridge?"

"_Yeah, I think there's half a pint of ice cream and then whatever's left of my salad. That's not gonna be enough, so..." _

"Dude, there's this diner a couple miles from here-"

"_With blueberry pie, yeah I know," _Sam's grin could be heard through the phone. _"I'll be back in twenty."_

Dean smiled as he ended the call, shoving his phone into his pocket before fishing out the room key. It was a short walk and he was already back, ready to get his hair-removal on before Sam got back. Once he got in the door he kicked off his boots and tossed the drugstore bag onto the bed before he stripped out of his pants and boxers. Then he grabbed the bag again and sat down on the edge of the bed as he pulled the box out to glance over the directions.

"Leave on skin for three minutes," he read aloud, "Then test the area with the...the spatula? What?" he furrowed his brows as he tore open the box to retrieve the contents inside. He found a tube and a small plastic tool that reminded him of the fake shaving kit he got for Sam when he was still a little kid. "Oh okay. Guess you're the spatula," he said before turning back to the directions. "If hair comes away easily," he continued reading, "Remove rest of gel with the spatula. Okay, sounds easy enough," Dean said, tossing the empty box back into the bag. He pulled his shirt off over his head to avoid getting anything on it, then stood and made his way to the bathroom with the tube of gel and the little plastic tool. "Three minutes is plenty of time before Sammy gets home," he said with a grin.

He set the tool down on the sink counter and unscrewed the cap of the tube, squeezed some out onto his fingers and then applied it...well, everywhere. Everywhere he was concerned about getting baby-smooth anyway. Then he rinsed off his hands, dried them and glanced down at his watch to start keeping time.

"Hmm," Dean said as he felt the gel begin to work. "That's kinda warm. Wonder if that's normal," he said as he headed back out to grab the discarded box. But then it began to heat up. A lot. "Okay yeah...too warm," he sad, turning back toward the bathroom. "Holy shit," he hurried to the sink to turn on the water as the burning became ridiculously intense, like barbed wire—if he needed to compare it to something—digging into him like a wedgie. In a panic he began awkwardly attempting to wash it off, breathing through the tear-drawing discomfort.

The hair was coming off with the gel, but Dean was more concerned with extinguishing the fire that was currently consuming his most sensitive areas. "Oh god oh god oh geezus," Dean panicked at the intensity that was now causing bile to run up the back of his throat. "Need something colder... Sonofabitch!" he whined as he stumbled out of the bathroom and directly to the mini-fridge where Sam had told him there was ice cream. On his knees on the crappy, red carpet, he pulled open the door, tore the lid off of the small, half-empty carton and dunked his flaming balls down into what little creamy goodness was remaining.

A heavy sigh of relief escaped him for a moment as the cold seemed to counteract the effects of the gel. But then it became exceedingly apparent that he'd neglected to wash the gel from his asshole, and maybe his flaming balls had previously distracted him from that fact, or maybe the burning had taken a little longer to start on that end. Either way, the panic began to rebuild.

The ice cream was rapidly melting, and all they had left in the fridge was Sam's salad... Dean grabbed for it out of desperation, popping open the Styrofoam container in search for something—anything to ease the pain. Sliced cucumbers and whole cherry tomatoes seemed the most solid, cold-keeping elements in the container, and Dean didn't think twice when he picked them out and shoved them between his ass cheeks.

"Oh...oh," Dean was relieved again for a moment...right up until he realized that some of the gel must've slipped in past the rim because... "SONOFABITCH!" he panicked, reaching back into the container, no thought process existing outside of getting cold to the fire. Dean grabbed the last remaining cherry tomato, pressing it unceremoniously up into himself, a groan of satisfied relief oozing out of him as he collapsed onto his side on the floor. "Oooh that's...that's good," he breathed, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Uh...Dean?" Sam's voice sounded above him.

Dean clenched all over, eyes popping open at right about the same time the cherry tomato launched out of Dean's ass, hitting Sam in the pant leg before it fell to the carpet.

"What...the hell did you do to my salad?"

"I can explain!"

.~*~.

"Not suitable for use on the genital area," Sam read aloud for his brother.

"They shoulda made that more obvious on the package," Dean grumbled from where he sat on the bed with a cold beer positioned purposefully between his legs.

"It's right before the directions," Sam replied with a raised brow.

"Well it should be in big red letters!" Dean argued.

"You should probably read more thoroughly before applying stuff to your junk," Sam said, shaking his head, an amused grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Shut up, man," Dean looked down, embarrassed and annoyed. "This isn't how I planned the day out in my head."

"Yeah, me either," Sam replied as he handed Dean the dinner he'd picked up for him, then plopped down beside him up against the headboard with his own. "I guess you're not gonna be able to use any of the stuff I got, tonight."

Dean looked away from his burger, up at his brother with interested brows. "It's not that bad anymore, I swear," Dean told him. "Once I got all that shit offa me it was totally okay."

"Except you're balls and asshole are beet red."

"It's fading," he said with a shrug. "It'll be fine. 'sides, we don't need my asshole or my balls all that much, do we?"

Sam laughed at that. "Eat your dinner, Dean. It's gonna get cold."

"Did you get the pie?"

"Yes, I got the pie. But I think I should get it since your ass ate my damn salad."

"That's not a fair trade at all!" Dean countered, wide-eyed.

"You wanna know what's not a fair trade?" Sam replied with equally wide eyes as he sat up away from the headboard to turn and face his brother. "Having just spent an hour finding the perfect cock rings, then prepping myself in the adult-store's restroom so I could put in a surprise plug and be ready for you by the time I got back here, then having your balls in my ice cream and my leftovers hanging out of your muppet-mouth looking ass, too sore now to do anything!"

"Y...you... Wait, my muppet-looking ass? What the fuck?"

"Shut up," Sam said and returned back to his meal.

"You seriously have a plug in right now?" Dean inquired curiously.

"Fat lotta good it does me now."

"My package is fine," Dean retorted, "And it is more than ready to accommodate your accommodations," he said with a smirk.

Sam couldn't help the snort of laughter. "You're an idiot."

"A fully-functional idiot," Dean replied. "Now finish your dinner. I've got dessert on my mind. And I don't mean the pie..."

~End~


End file.
